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Playing Pretend Box Set

Page 26

by Natasha L. Black


  Way to be smart, Kandice. One minute I was paranoid. The next, I was clueless.

  Here I was, sitting on a half-abandoned rooftop terrace, one that would be great for tossing a certain unsuspecting journalist over.

  As Jen made a skeptical noise, I continued. "No one has approached you asking questions about me, right? Or called you? Anything?"

  "Oh, yeah!" Jen said, as if I'd hit the nail on the head. "Now that you mention it, there was this assassin guy who wanted to know what your daily habits were. Oh, and your height, weight, you know, so he could aim his gun correctly. He just wanted my opinion on whether he should corner you alone or get you in a public place, which would give him a better advantage…"

  "Very funny," I said dryly.

  "Seriously, Kandice," she said. "You're going to be fine. We're in the USA, remember?"

  "Where mass shootings occur, like, 200% more often than in other countries, and almost 18,000 people were murdered last year."

  "Whoa, Dire Delilah," Jen said. "Are you sure you should have come here at all?"

  "No," I said flatly. "Mom and Dad are already harassing me to hide in a bomb shelter."

  Jen tittered. "Seriously?"

  "No," I admitted. "They just want me to go and stay with them, which is virtually the same thing. I'd probably get more peace and quiet in the bomb shelter."

  "There's also Giovanni,” I continued, “Apparently, he wants it to look realistic to his family, so we have to actually live together."

  "Aww," Jen said. "You're still denying your feelings."

  "Jen," I said, exasperated. "Seriously, I barely know the guy."

  "So?" Jen said. "In grade two, we had that supply teacher, Mr. Boyle, that I only knew for one day, and I fell madly in love with him."

  "Great," I said. "Great comparison. I have total faith in your adult advice on my life now."

  "Point is," Jen said. "You have the hots for the guy, what's the problem?"

  "The problem is," I began, "other than the fact that, as I said, I hardly know the guy, I'm not only fake married to him, but also, get this, he literally just ditched me with his business card."

  "Wait," Jen said. I could tell she was holding up a finger. "He did what now?"

  "Yeah," I said. "We had amazing sex on the balcony last night, and this morning—don't ask—then he cuddled me after for a while, but as soon as he gets some call, he goes all cold and acts as if we're still going for breakfast and then..." I paused to take a breath. "Then, he says it's probably better if he just goes to work by himself somewhere and leaves me his business card."

  A thoughtful pause. "He's in denial."

  "Whatever," I said. "Or, more likely, he's faced facts. Neither of us are suited for each other or for a serious relationship. It's best if we just keep things professional."

  "Professional," Jen repeated dubiously.

  "Yeah," I said. "He helped me get into the U.S. and is helping me stay here. I'm helping him satisfy the ridiculous condition of his dad's will. It's a win-win."

  "Especially when you have amazing sex," Jen agreed. I heard the sound of a doorbell through the phone followed by Jen groaning.

  "It's your Grandma Beatrice, isn't it?" I asked evilly.

  "Yes," Jen said. "I told her we could touch base some weekend, but apparently, this is that weekend."

  Grandma Beatrice was Jen's well-meaning but very annoying and borderline insane grandmother. She had, on occasion, chased Jen and I with her cane when she found out we wore the same jean miniskirts she'd heard about from one of her bridge circle friends. She once called a guy that Jen was seeing on the night that would have been their third ‘date’ to ask him to explain what he meant by "Netflix and Chill."

  She doesn’t even keep her crazy within the family. She once wrote a strongly worded letter to my parents when she found out that Jen and I had been permitted to go to a rock music festival in a nearby county. We were twenty-four and it was one of the only times I'd come back from China for a vacation.

  Yes, Grandma Beatrice, with her collection of pottery elephants and her penchant for wearing colorful beanie caps, was a character, all right. Jen was in for an interesting day, that was for sure.

  "Gotta go," Jen said. "If it's any consolation, I think I'm about to have a much worse day than you."

  "Oh, it is," I said. "See ya."

  "See ya," Jen replied.

  I wiled the rest of the afternoon away. I didn’t get any job responses. Instead, I looked into different ideas—a recent new cleaning robot, a high-up political figure who had made some dubious remarks recently—I hadn’t had a chance to research yet, with all that’d been going on. It would be good to have some articles ready-made if anyone did get back to me.

  It was nice, taking my mind off the mess with Giovanni and the confusion over what I felt...

  14

  Giovanni

  Damn work.

  After I told Kandice that spur-of-the-moment lie, I endeavored to make it the truth at the café. After all, during my time in Shanghai, a lot had piled up at work. There was the usual deluge of emails, most of them pointless to try and respond to three days later. Then there was the odd problem or issue with staff or merchandise. For instance, while I was gone, it appeared Bruno Inc. had an employee unexpectedly quit on three different occasions.

  Unacceptable. Once I returned, there would be a cleaning spree.

  Anyway, at least now I was back...

  As my hand closed around the cool chrome of the doorknob back to our room, I paused.

  I wasn't sure whether "at least" should be applied to this. After all, this was also just business.

  Kandice wasn't in the room, but the door to the balcony was open. I went out to see her basking in the sun, typing away on her laptop.

  "Hey," I said.

  Her eyes didn't stray from the screen. She was focused on the document she was tapping away at. "Hey."

  I stood there for a few seconds. She said nothing. Beside her, she had a phone that she glanced at nervously.

  "Something going on?" I asked.

  Was Kandice getting paranoid for a real reason this time?

  "Nothing," she said simply.

  I stood there for a few more moments as she typed away, as if I wasn't there, then began to turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her reach for her phone. Lunging, I got to it first.

  Opening it, I saw a message from Jin: Be careful. They know you came to the US. I am safe, but be careful.

  "This is serious," I said. "You weren’t going to tell me?"

  "It's none of your business," she snapped, ripping the phone from my hands.

  I stood over her, glaring at her. "Actually, it is, considering you're my wife."

  "Fake wife," she corrected me. "And no, it isn't. I can figure it out."

  "Why won't you trust me?" I said.

  Kandice stood, her chest pressing into mine. "This morning you made yourself perfectly clear. There's no need to go above and beyond here, nobody's going to win the star spouse award in this arrangement."

  "Anyway," she continued. "Worst comes to worst and something happens to me, you can just buy yourself a new wife."

  As she turned on her heels and strode away into the room, I stood there for a few more seconds, stunned.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  I followed her inside. As she slammed the bathroom door behind her, I caught a glimpse of her strained, tear-stained face.

  Okay, so she was scared. But why push me away like this? I just wanted to help, damn it.

  I already had enough to worry about. I didn’t need to question whether…

  Maybe Kandice had been doing it out of consideration for me—No. The only emotion I'd seen in her eyes when I grabbed her phone was frustration, anger.

  Lord knows why she'd been keeping it from me, but it wasn't out of consideration.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, my gaze going to my phone. Only two hours until our flight to Miami. This time, since we
weren't going on the personal jet, we really did need to get there quite a bit earlier. We had no more time to waste.

  I knocked on the door. "Kandice, we have to get going. Our flight leaves in two hours."

  The door swung open. Her face was tear-free, but she was still noticeably upset. "Fine," Kandice said.

  We packed our things in a strained silence. I was frustrated with myself. I'd lost track of time at the café while working. I had hurried back but hadn't expected the streets to be so busy. Now, getting to the airport didn't look good.

  In fact, as soon as we got in our cab, our taxi driver, a man with a beard that looked like it belonged on the Adams Family with cousin Itt, just laughed. He gestured to the long lineup of cars that surrounded us.

  "Going to be a while."

  "We don't have a while," I said. "We have a plane to catch."

  Our driver just shrugged.

  I hated to be crass, but...

  "Listen," I told him. "If you can get us there in time: go a back way, speed, pass some of these guys, anything you can do—I'll give you an extra $100."

  Beside me, Kandice rolled her eyes. I hadn't done it for her benefit. I did it so we could get on that damn plane. Money wasn't an object in this, either. I had to get back in time for my father's funeral.

  Not that there weren't other flights, but... I was tired of this extended trip. We both were. The sooner we got to Miami, the better.

  As it turned out, our taxi driver was fluent in the language of money. He managed to careen us out of traffic and slip down a back road. We still arrived at the airport with less than a half an hour to spare. When we finally made it to our gate, fifteen minutes later, the stewardess barred our way.

  "I'm sorry," she said in a firm tone, not at all apologetic. "Your flight has left."

  15

  Kandice

  "No, it hasn't," Giovanni said coldly.

  "Sir," the stewardess began.

  "I realize we're late, I apologize for that. But you're going to have to do twice the amount of apologizing if Shawn McGill finds out that you wouldn't let me on his flight."

  The stewardess' face went pale. "You're... Mr. Bruno?" she asked, her voice small.

  "Yes," Giovanni said, consulting her name tag. "Miriam, will you please take us to our plane now?"

  She did so without further protest.

  I snuck a glance at Giovanni, his face contorted with rage. I had to admit, even though he looked intimidating, seeing him deal with this series of events was a bit of a turn on. He'd solved that situation, plain and simple. Now, here we were, boarding a flight that would have been barred to virtually any other member of the general public.

  My hand tensed on my luggage handle.

  Yeah, it was nice when Giovanni's controlling anger benefitted us, but what about when it didn't? What about when he interfered with my life and tried to impose things on me, like living with him, that I didn't want or need, in any way, shape or form?

  Sure, we were married, but that was it. In paper only, since it was all a ruse. Just because Giovanni helped me get out of China, didn't mean that he got to control my life now. It didn't work that way.

  I stilled the angry voice in my head. Clearly, I just needed more sleep. Giovanni hadn't been that bad, after all. It was just seeing him flip-flop, from caring to cool, that was annoying.

  Inside the plane, Giovanni and I did the bored-couple routine perfectly. It appeared ignoring each other for virtually the whole flight was what normal couples did. We looked exactly like the majority of other couples around us.

  This was the state of relationships in 2019, I guess.

  I shook the dire thought away as I dug into the bag of peanuts they'd given me. At least we were in first class this time. Extra leg room and enough seat space to nod off pleasantly.

  When I woke up, we were almost in Miami. I’d caught a glimpse of "How to Train Your Dragon" as we departed, before nodding off.

  It felt like we’d barely touched town before we were moving out of the plane, up the walkway, and through the airport. By the time we'd made it through customs and were standing outside in the dark, humid night air, looking for a taxi, it was 12:30 A.M.

  "An airport hotel would be best," Giovanni said in a tone that invited no argument.

  Part of me wanted to argue just for the sake of him not getting his way. It would have been childish, though. I was dead tired, too.

  We ended up going to the Hilton Miami Blue Lagoon Airport Hotel, ten minutes away. Before bed, we took turns showering and sipping at glasses of whiskey.

  We were almost robotic as we got into bed. The air conditioning and the rhythmic whirring of the overhead fan filled the silence. Made it seem less... Empty.

  I tried drifting off, keeping my eyes firmly clamped shut. My mind whirred away, as if it was the middle of the day. Things from my unconscious floated into my awareness.

  His musk coated me as my mind fantasized about what he would do if my hand found his underneath the covers. If my body moved into the curve of his.

  Giovanni was right beside me, and yet he felt thousands of miles away.

  My husband. My fake husband.

  I turned, so my back was facing him. I needed to sleep. Just to sleep.

  I awoke, squinting.

  Something bright, what the heck...

  We'd forgotten to close the blackout curtains last night and now the hot, early morning Miami sun was beaming in, practically blinding me.

  I clamped my eyes shut again firmly, too comfy to not continue sleeping. It was so warm here and... What was that?

  There was something pressed up against me. Someone.

  Of course, it was Giovanni, his hard torso, like a wall behind me, and further down... His cock firmly nestled against my ass.

  Fuck. I wanted him. God… It was a bad idea. No... It wasn't an idea at all. I wasn't doing it.

  I. Was. Not.

  Even if my fake husband was demanding a response from me, without even knowing it. It was just like Giovanni.

  16

  Giovanni

  Her mouth strained over my cock as my hand massaged her ass, enjoying its suppleness, urging her on. Her eyes were watering as she floated a look up to me and...

  Light. Damn it. It was obscured by a curtain of...

  My own hair. Huh.

  I ground my teeth together. Directly in front of me, was...

  Fuck. Yep, that was my morning wood, planted between Kandice’s ass cheeks.

  My eyes rolled over her half-naked body.

  Was she trying to torture me?

  I rustled so I'd rolled onto my other side.

  Damn this situation. Damn that dream. My body needed to understand that this was not happening. Not anymore.

  Business, plain and simple. I hadn't had an issue separating business and pleasure before, I shouldn't now.

  Then there was... Shit… Reaching over, I checked my phone.

  "We still on for brunch?" Maria had texted.

  I'd asked her about meeting for brunch yesterday, unsure of whether I wanted to introduce them or not, then promptly forgot about it. I hadn't even had a chance to ask Kandice. I hadn’t even seen Maria’s response.

  Now... I rolled back over and watched her some more. The light was playing over her face, her messy hair, and her soft skin.

  I couldn't help it, my hands swept down her back and continued further, stopping at her ass. I swept around, my fingers itching for what I wanted the most.

  If she was dry, well then... But if she was wet...

  Fuck, was she wet. I pulled her closer, drawing one leg on top of my thigh so I could easily slide into her.

  Her eyes fluttered open as our bodies connected. "Morning," she said sleepily.

  "Morning," I said, pushing myself into her.

  She ground her ass into me further, our bodies sinking into each other desperately. There was nothing slow about it, nothing but an urge satisfying itself.

  I pumped into her and sh
e pushed back against me until I could feel her body trembling around me, her pussy squeezing my cock with each thrust. She was coming. Then again, and then finally, as I gave one last, forceful, desperate shove, my breath left me, and we came in tandem.

  It wasn’t enough. I rolled us over, spreading her out onto her belly, propping her hips up, her shoulders down. My cock was straining, her body taunting me. I slid back into her and leaned in, sinking my teeth into her shoulder. My thrusts were deep and quick, needing to just empty this need, this want. I panted in her ear, our skin smacking together as I fucked her into the bed. We came with a speed, force, and finality that shocked us both.

  Afterwards, we panted in sync.

  Fuck. It had happened so fast. I couldn't even pinpoint the moment where I should have stopped.

  Maybe when I got in bed with her.

  I got up, pressing my feet into the cold hardwood floor. I needed to get my head on straight.

  "There's a brunch later today," I told Kandice carefully. "I forgot to tell you before. It's with my family."

  Kandice sat up sharply. "You were just going to spring that on me?"

  "I had intended to ask you about it in advance," I explained. "It slipped my mind."

  Kandice got out of bed and, grabbing the first piece of clothing she could find, quickly covered herself with my T-shirt. "Unbelievable," was all she said as she stormed away.

  I got a nice view of her from behind, just before she slammed the bathroom door forcefully.

  Yes, there was very little quite as appealing as a woman in a shirt only long enough to half-cover her ass.

  My cock began to stiffen again. I turned away. Enough of that.

  For now, anyway.

  A few minutes later, after Kandice had grudgingly agreed to come along and we'd gotten dressed, I apologized again.

  "You're right," I admitted. "I shouldn't have just sprung this on you."

  Kandice eyed me dubiously. "Are you actually sorry, or are you just saying that so I'll play nice with your family?"

 

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